


I'm Sure That's What You Tell All The Girls

by AbschaumNo1



Series: Hope for Recovery [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Gen, One day I will write something that's not fluff, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, today is not that day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbschaumNo1/pseuds/AbschaumNo1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James has a visitor, when she goes he thinks that maybe she leaves as a friend</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sure That's What You Tell All The Girls

**Author's Note:**

> I think I lied a bit about not knowing where this series is going... I knew that this would happen next, because i just really need these two to be friends.  
> And maybe one day I will manage to get in more of the Stucky part of this series... because I haven't forgotten about that, it just...hasn't come up in the last two parts...  
> Also it's my birthday today, and I'm secretly a hobbit, so I wanted to have something for you guys. I hope you like it!

When James enters his room and finds someone in it, it takes every ounce of self-control he has to stop himself from lashing out. Instead he stays right by the door and looks at the red-haired woman sitting on the window sill. She watches him, and even though she doesn't make it seem like it he has a feeling that she knows exactly how tense he is right now.

She gets up with a grace that reminds him of a cat on the hunt, and he knows without doubt that she does not only know that he is dangerous, but also that this is her way of showing him that she is dangerous, too.

"How much do you remember?" she asks, and it actually takes him a moment to recognise the familiar sound of Russian. It makes him tense even more, because Russian is what _they_ taught him; Russian is every memory of the past seventy years, and his every instinct tells him that it means _danger_. He shifts his feet ever so slightly so he can react if this turns out bad, and only the slightest twitch in her leg tells him that she has seen it.

Then she raises her hands and relaxes her stance. "I didn't want to alarm you," she says in English, "I'm friends with Steve, I'm not here to hurt you."

James cocks his head and studies her face; he is sure that he hasn't met her since he pulled Steve out of the Potomac, but she seems familiar. He tries to remember where he has seen her before, and old memories resurface. He furrows his brow at the information.

"Odessa," he says, "I shot someone through you, didn't I?"

She nods. "Yes, and in DC you tried to kill me."

He concentrates, and yes, there it is; red hair, someone shooting at him and hitting his goggles. The distant feeling of anger at being hit, and the chase along the street.

"You're not too bad," he says finally, because he can't really say more right now. Not as long as he is not sure if he only tried to kill her because of the mission or because he wanted to.

"I'm sure that's what you tell all the girls." Her smile is small but it is there, and James finds himself returning it.

“Only the real good ones,” he replies.

“So what do you call yourself these days?” she asks.

“James.” He doesn't add that he still allows Steve to call him Bucky. He's not sure he is there yet, but Steve's special, has always been special, and the way he says his name makes him feel like he can get there again. For everyone else he's James. It's still his name, still Bucky's name, but not in the same way as 'Bucky' is, and he thinks it's kind of fitting for him. He's Bucky, but he's also not; he's not sure yet how to fit what he has done since he fell in with his life before that, but maybe he can get there.

“It's nice to meet you under better circumstances, James. I'm Natasha.”

He nods. Steve has told him about her, and James could tell that he is really impressed by her abilities. “Why are you here?”

“I heard you had come back and wanted to check if everything's alright with the two of you. How's it going?”

He frowns, thinking about how to answer her question. “I remember a lot, but not everything I think. Steve's helping with the details. Sometimes remembering hurts, but I don't tell Steve, he shouldn't have to worry.”

Natasha nods. "Anything else? Nightmares, anything like that?"

"I don't sleep well. There - there's a lot going on in my head," he admits. "And sometimes I have to keep instinct from taking over."

"You haven't tried to kill him again, have you?"

James shakes his head. "I couldn't. Steve's important, I have to protect him."

Natasha smiles at that. "You're doing well," she tells him. "I expected you to be much worse. But I think you and Steve got this."

"Sam helps, too." James feels like he should point that out, because Sam really has helped a lot, and he thinks his help shouldn't be forgotten.

"See?" Natasha says. "Nothing should go wrong then."

He nods, even though he fears that one day it might go wrong. Natasha looks like she understands, and they both know that if it does go wrong only Steve could hope to do something.

Natasha gets up, and puts a note down on his bed. "I'll be on my way then. If you need someone to relate, call me." Her smile seems genuine and James nods, even though he doesn't know what exactly she means by that. Before he can think to ask Natasha has vanished through the window.

 

* * *

 

When James has breakfast with Steve the next morning he tells him about Natasha's visit.

"It's good to hear that she's okay. She could have said hi though," Steve says with a wry smile.

"She said something about being able to relate," James says, and Steve nods.

"She probably can to some extend. I don't know what exactly happened in her past, but she defected from the Russians."

The words jostle something in James' mind; there's a memory that he can't quite grasp yet, it's elusive, but there's a glimpse of fiery red hair, and something like pride. He doesn't know where it's coming from but he thinks idly that she has done well for herself, as he smiles into his coffee. He wonders why for a second, but he decides not to dwell on it, the memory will come back sooner or later. For now he just thinks that maybe he has found a friend in her.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://abschaumno1.tumblr.com).


End file.
